


(Falser Than) Vows Made in Wine

by Niki



Series: As You Like It [1]
Category: Marvel 3490, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Identity Porn, M/M, Marvel Universe Big Bang 2015, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5179748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niki/pseuds/Niki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Of course Tasha has thought about what her life would have been like had she been born a man. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Falser Than) Vows Made in Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago, I drew [an untitled picture](http://community.livejournal.com/cap_ironman/603878.html) for muccamukk in cap_ironman Holiday Exchange, and tried writing a short ficlet about the names but that never happened. Some months later I found the ficlet and thought I'd finish it. Then suddenly it turned into an _actual_ genderswap story and I've been struggling to finish it ever since. 
> 
> I've always been wary of writing genderswap stories because I fear falling into stereotypes and trivialising the very real trans* experiences. Please tell me if you see something offensive or even just a bit not good here, I'd be happy to fix it!
> 
> (Technically an AU of Earth 3490, since I role-swapped Reed and Sue. My 3490 is basically 616 with the history of arc reactor tech borrowed from MCU. Natasha's heart issues are a mix of movie and comic verses, and will probably make no sense whatsoever. )
> 
>  **Thank You:** To my awesome artists, [rumikofujikawa](http://rumikofujikawa.tumblr.com/) and [fictionforlife](http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/), who made my first Marvel BB such an awesome experience. Seriously, I'm in awe over the pictures they produced! To [Neith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MerNeith/profile) for beta, above and beyond as always, and [Sineala](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/profile) for encouragement and canon checks - seriously, when I lost faith with the story, she encouraged me to go on, so it's all thanks to her we got this far!
> 
> [rumikofujikawa's art on Tumblr](http://rumikofujikawa.tumblr.com/image/132899298218)   
>  [fictionforlife's art on Tumblr](http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/post/133239846985)
> 
> **Warnings:** Some characters have rather binary gender beliefs, references to sexism and voluntary and involuntary childlessness, some ableist language.

“I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.”  
― William Shakespeare, As You Like It

 

Of course Tasha has thought about what her life would have been like if she had been born a man. 

Would Howard have been less disappointed? Would he have been a better father for a son? Would she have had more friends as a boy, seeing as she had always been more interested in things considered masculine? 

(Why couldn't girls like fast cars, and all things mechanical?)

She has always been an odd bird, with her interests and strengths, with her attitude and hobbies. Sleeping around and drinking are more acceptable for men, but would she have been drowning herself in drinks in the first place had she been a he?

(Yeah, probably.)

There are the bodily differences, as well. As a cis man she wouldn't have needed to find out at fourteen that it was not legal for her to have her uterus removed, that she just had to suck it up and suffer like everyone else. 

Well, the pills took care of the pain and the unpredictability, and mostly the threat of unwanted pregnancy – and when she reached adulthood she was honest enough to admit to herself she might want to keep the womb option open, just in case. 

(Brain damage from alcohol was always an option, after all.)

(Years later, after Afghanistan, she is sure there is a higher power, just because she could swear she can hear their sarcastic laughter.)

Would it be easier for her to keep the board of directors happy if she wasn't of what they consider “the weaker sex,” if she didn't need to assert her authority every goddamn day just because she has breasts?

Would it be easier for them to take her seriously if she didn't need to wear a dress to parties?

(She had tried the pant suit option but all that led to had been the dyke comments. For herself she couldn't care less, she doesn't consider it an insult, but it made the authority issue harder again.)

One question that has amused her no end is thinking about what she would have been called. “Natasha” has no masculine form, it's a pet form of Natalya, so “Noel” would be closest in meaning. She really can't see any version of herself be called that, though. “Howard Junior” makes her shudder but is also quite unlikely, as that was one form of conceit her father did not have. Maybe “Edward” after her uncle, her family has been fond of handing down names. Howard had been named “Anthony” after his own father, after all. 

She has also thought about what she'd look. She thought she'd be a little taller, wider, definitely, more angular.

She hadn't expected the black hair or the goatee, to be honest. There's more Howard on her face than she ever though she'd be comfortable with, but it's tempered by the familiar shape of the nose from her mother's side. 

In the glowing round thing replacing the scar tissue on her own chest she recognises her father's arc reactor technology, and can't wait to get a closer look at it. Although removing it would probably be a bad thing, seeing as it most likely keeps her – him – this body alive.

Which brings her back to the issue at hand. A very masculine hand. Hand belonging to a male version of herself. She raises her eyebrow, and the man in the mirror raises his. 

“Okay, this is officially weird,” she says, and the voice is deeper than hers, of course, husky like he's been drinking and there's a surprise.

She looks at the hands, seeing the little scars and burns of a mechanic and can't help but smile. It seems Stark is Stark in any reality.

“Tasha... could you please put some clothes on?” Pepper asks in a long-suffering voice.

She can't help but check out what the grin looks like with the beard and mustache and, yeah, weird, but insolently her. 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“You did attend that sexual harassment seminar we had last year, didn't you?”

“Attend it? I slept with the lecturer!”

Bantering with Pepper is a second nature and doesn't need much concentration. Her attention is drawn back to the mirror, to the – admittedly, very nice looking – male body on display.

Her eyes look the same, the sparkling curiosity surrounded by dark lashes that look ridiculously long on the male face. The cheekbones look sharper, the chin partly covered and framed by a neatly trimmed goatee that moves when she smiles and damn, it feels weird. 

There is a light dusting of dark hair on her chest as well, and he follows its trail down to her flat stomach.

There are no abdominal scars. If this Stark turned into a woman, he could probably have children. There is a very brief pang – mostly just because external limitations of any kind irritate Tasha – but then her gaze moves on. 

She has a very nice cock. 

\- - -

“I think it's time Ms Stark had another heart operation,” Pepper says. “I'm not even going to try to handle the PR for something like this.”

“I'm not just going to hide!” 

“Well, you're not exactly yourself, are you!” Pepper points out, staring pointedly at her body, now hastily encased in the largest T-shirt she could find (it used to belong to Rhodey, and her friend might claim it still does but it was in _her_ wardrobe). Her usual gym shorts also fit, being a little on the loose side on her female body, her hips wide in both forms. 

“I can e-mail people. I can still design, and...” And she can still be Iron Man. Because, well, he is Iron **Man**.

“I'll be in the workshop,” she tells Pepper, and turns to go. “As I'm not allowed to work anyway, don't try to make me.”

“Tasha...” 

The worry in her PA's voice makes her pause by the door.

“I'll be fine,” she says, turning back to look at the other woman. “Seriously. Sue will find a way to fix this and I will be back to normal in no time. Then you can go back to bossing me around. For now... congratulations, you're the new acting CEO of Stark Industries. I'll be in my workshop.”

\- - -

The small team who is aware of anything wrong – a few scientists she trusts, but none from her own company, mostly super heroes – agree that it has to be a sort of a dimensional exchange because if it was a simple sex change she wouldn't have the facial hair or the arc reactor and that means Sue is their – her – best bet of solving it so Tasha just has to hang on until she does. 

She hangs in the workshop.

Her luck seems to have turned at least for a moment as there are no emergencies – either with the company or the Avengers – while she works. She needs to understand the device in her chest in case it needs recharging. And she needs to completely rebuild her armor. 

Iron Man may be shaped like a man on the outside but the insides are designed for her female form. She needs to start from scratch to keep the sensitivity and protection she has got used to. 

It takes her a week to build the new Iron Man. She will have to perform more tests with the arc reactor because if it really is all it could be, she could use it to power the armor and that... that takes her into intriguing places.

But for now she goes with what she knows... mostly.

The first Iron Man had been like a World War 2 tank – a bulky powerhouse – because looks hadn't been the priority in the circumstances. The next version had been sleeker, but still obviously built for power, not speed.

She always purposefully exaggerated the stereotypically masculine traits: bulky muscles, wide shoulders, aggressive sports car colors. The form and design changed over time, but the themes remained the same, all to conceal the fact that the body inside was of slighter build.

Now, though, she has much less room to work than she's been used to. With a bulkier body to encase in the armor she has much less space for armor plating, padding, and the electronics needed to control the flying marvel that the suit is.

It gives her the chance to try some improvements she has been planning on for some while: a new alloy for durability, new form and angles to deflect fire, so that thick armor plating itself isn't as vital. 

She loves the challenge, loves the strain it puts her mind into, to try to solve all the problems that arise. She gets so into the process it's always a surprise when the hand reaching out for her tools isn't familiar, the height of everything in her workshop is just slightly off, the humming voice deeper than she expected. 

But the nicks and calluses of the hands are familiar, the muscles are obviously used to the similar movements as they do not strain, her back doesn't ache even after being hunched over her workbench for hours and hours. 

Pepper pops by every now and then, ostensibly to bring her things to sign, but Tasha is convinced at least half of the times are just to check up on her. She doesn't know what Pepper expects – for her to have a nervous breakdown, or drink herself into a stupor. (Huh, there's a thought – is the alcohol tolerance of this body similar to hers? Would the difference in mass and body fat make a difference?) But after a week, Pepper seems used to the fact that the face greeting her with an irreverent grin is decorated with a beard (she needs to learn to _shave_ , her stylish goatee is losing its shape), and that she isn't about to go on a bender.

Tasha's... dealing with the change. It's not that different, in the end, when it's just her, even though morning boners had been an interesting addition to her routine. She's wary of touching herself – it feels like a violation, to touch a body belonging to someone else in a sexual manner. She tries to take better care of it than her own body, too, has a timer to remind her to eat, to drink, to sleep at regular intervals. She sometimes – okay, most times – fails, but she feels better for making the effort. 

The miniature arc reactor in her chest is a bigger issue than the masculine body. It's impossible to forget, the hum almost a subconscious presence, the way it forces her to breath differently, deeper, slower, because shallow breaths make her dizzy very fast. 

She thinks she maybe got lucky with her own injuries, even when she was relying on the armor plate to keep her heart beating, or now, with the transplant medication. Then again, the reactor itself could be a solution to so many power issues with Iron Man. She could free so much space from power cells in the suit... the few tests she ran made her giddy with the output, but she needs to do more research before she can implement the changes. And as she could lose this body at any time – she doesn't even know if Sue could give her an advance warning (probably not), so making a suit reliant on the reactor would be irresponsible. 

But she wants to, she so, so badly wants to. Too bad testing is hampered by the fact she needs the reactor to stay _in_ her chest to stay alive for long enough to get her own body back. She does every test she can think of, runs all the studies she can, and makes notes of everything in the hopes of being able to transform her father's arc reactor tech into this.

She avoids the Avengers, and everyone else she knows, texting Rhodey when the man tries to call, not wanting to go through the hassle of making a program to transform her voice, as trivial as it would be, seeing that Iron Man uses similar technology. She's hoping the change is short enough to not warrant explaining anything to her oldest friend. Not that she doesn't trust Rhodey, but he's busy, and he _would_ take time to come visit her just to gawk, and, really, it's altruistic not to tell him.

And it's not like her team mates ever knew she _isn't_ a man. She very decidedly does not think about the fact that _Steve_ has always thought she is a man. Steve, her best friend, her team mate, her... His. Iron Man's best friend. It always comes back to that. Steve thinks she's a man, and a few weeks ago Tasha had realised that for Steve, too, the border from friendship to something else has been crossed. Steve has a crush on her. Him. Iron Man, his best friend, whom he like likes, maybe even loves, and has... probably for a long time now. 

It drives her crazy, because the parts Steve must respond to – Iron Man's sense of humor, his turn of phrase, his dedication to duty, his willingness to always be there for his friends... it's all Tasha. But Steve never responds to her the same way, and it's no wonder really, it's not like their interactions are similar when she is just the rich genius financing the Avengers, giving them a place to stay, and keeping them in cool toys.

And Iron Man is the best parts of her, he doesn't have the baggage of her traumas, the reputation, the past to content with. He's not called a Merchant of Death to his face, nor mailed pictures of children mutilated by weapons she dreamt up. Iron Man is someone that could deserve a man like Steve, when Natasha Stark isn't, and never will be, so she hasn't even tried to breach the gap between her two identities, hasn't even tried to get closer as Tasha.

And then, now, this. Steve thinks she's a man, and now she _is_ , or at least looks like one. She would finally have a chance, could take off her helmet and the face Steve saw would match his expectations, at least better than her own face would. But she will not take advantage of the situation in that way. She will not use this body to...

Huh. She wonders if her male counterpart loves his Captain America, too? Does he even have a Steve? 

He has to. She can't imagine a world with her in it without him. That would just be... wrong. 

She also wonders – totally doesn't spend any time thinking about it – whether her body is in his world now, if he is trying to get used to a pair of breasts while she is trying to learn how to piss standing up. 

Bet he's playing with them right now. 

\- - - 

Tasha is in the middle of her first public test flight when she decides to head down to the mansion. She'll have to meet her team mates sooner or later, and with the suit they won't even know the difference, her voice is disguised anyway, so why is she hesitating?

(Steve thinks she's a man, Steve has a crush on his male friend, never gets that flustered smile on his face for Natasha Stark, and now she has a male body...)

Steve is in civilian clothes, reading a thick book in the garden when she touches down. His welcoming smile is bright as ever, like her appearance makes his day.

“Iron Man! Where have you been?”

“I had to escort my boss to the hospital, and took the opportunity to test her newest suit for me.”

“Well, if it works as well as it looks, I bet it's great. How is Miss Stark?”

If anyone else calls her Miss instead of a Ms she turns frosty. From Steve she takes it.

“Not well, but she will be okay once the operation is over.”

In the face of Steve's obvious worry she feels guilty over their cover story, but how else could they explain her possibly weeks long absence, especially since her bodyguard was left behind. 

“Well, I'm glad you're back,” Steve says, smiling, then turning his head as if embarrassed.

Has he always been this obvious? How did she never catch it before? Steve is never bashful around other people, he's not shy or reserved, isn't afraid to speak his mind and stand for what he believes in (that's rather his thing), and they banter and joke around sometimes quite roughly, but then, occasionally... things like this happen. Steve going all blushing maiden at her, after something even a little revealing is said. 

And she can't do anything about it. Not while in a wrong body, and not while in her own, either, because it's not what Steve thinks is under the armor. (Does he fantasise about it? Seeing the shape beneath, touching the skin, kissing him?) (As he's fond of reminding everyone, people did know what sex was in the 40s, he's not as innocent as the PR department likes to sell him as.) 

“You know I can't stay away, Winghead,” she replies, and bumps Steve lightly on the arm before they head in to talk with the others.

\- - - 

Men's underwear is boring. Tasha eyes the selection Pepper has sent for her and makes a face. Not that she is a fan of lacy lingerie even in her female form but she still insists on silk and a good fit – comfortable, stylish, hot.

She bursts in laughter when she spots the bright red thong someone has added into the pile. She wonders if this body has ever worn anything so tacky in its life. She would turn tail if any of her lovers turned out to be sporting something like that under their clothes.

She has to wonder whether thongs are as comfortable for men as women, though. 

So of course she tries it on. 

And of course that is the moment when the Avengers communicator chirps into life. 

\- - -

It feels indecent to be flying into battle with just the armor on top of the tiny thong but it's not like anyone else is going to know it. Besides, being topless isn't as bad for a dude, right, and she is a guy at the moment.

And no one is going to see it anyway.

\- - -

Molecule man? Really? A person capable of de-materialising even Thor's hammer and Steve's shield, and after that her armor stands no chance. 

Her first reaction is “oh-my-god-my-suit-is-gone”, right after, “drafty!”, then it's “my face!”, then she remembers she isn't actually wearing her own face at the moment and “oh god, the fucking thong.” 

Things go downhill from there.

\- - -

“Well, this isn't at all awkward,” she says, finally facing Steve.

Steve is blinking, and very determinedly keeping his eyes on her face. A flash of true bashfulness or a good sign? 

Thor – **Don** – gave her his jacket to cover what she could and she couldn't decide between her face, chest, or groin. She ended up wearing it as a loincloth which... didn't really feel that much more decent.

She really wanted to hide her chest but that would have been such a feminine move and she really wanted to avoid those because she is still hiding behind a false identity here.

“That thing on your chest...”

“Life support,” she says simply, not wanting to lie to Steve.

Well, more than she already is, anyway.

\- - -

She knows Steve will come find him and stays at the Mansion to make it easy. She still doesn't know what to tell him, how to deal with this, and she needs a story, fast.

She is still wearing her armor because she has no change of clothes available in her room – not for a guy, anyway – but she doesn't want to leave before facing Steve. 

Steve changed into civilian clothing, blue jeans and a white t-shirt, so wholesomely American she wants to curse. He looks delicious, naturally, but also so goddamn pure she hates all the lies she is going to tell in the next few minutes.

Slowly, deliberately, she removes the helmet, and Steve's smile widens into something so happy it hurts to look at.

“Hi,” he says, wonder in his tone.

“Hi,” she replies, a little breathless herself.

“What's your name?” 

Yeah, name. Of course he'll ask that. 

“Anth... Tony,” she replies, not knowing why she ends up choosing that from her list but decides to go with the gut feeling.

“Tony,” Steve repeats, his smile – if possible – still widening.

Why can't he just be mad at her for the long deception? Why does he have to look so goddamn happy and... and _smitten_? She knew about the crush, sure, but the other man has never showed it so openly and she is so screwed.

“I'm sorry,” she gets out before Steve leans closer and...

And kisses her. His lips are tender but not hesitant, asking but not timid, his lips parting only slightly to taste hers, and she hears a groan, her own, deeper than it should be, and finds her own mouth opening under his. She's never been this passive in a kiss but she can't...

She slams Steve against the wall, amazed at her own strength. She has always been strong for a non-powered woman thanks to all the hands on mechanical work she does but she hasn't been able to manhandle Cap before. It is a surprising turn on.

She takes over the kiss now, tongue meeting tongue in a dance she should know very well but which is all new, now, because of the body, because of _Steve ___, because...

Arousal feels different now, but also the same, so much more intense than her experiences with the phenomenon known as “morning wood,” and the need for release is almost overwhelming. And if the strength of his grip is anything to go by, Steve is right there with her. 

With her.

With _him_.

“We can't do this,” she says, pulling back, the words wrenched out of her mouth as if against her will.

Steve looks dazed, then stunned, then... hurt.

“No! I mean... I want to, I so, so, so want to, it's just... you don't know me. You just...” she is choking on her words, on the truth and the lies, on the two different people she is supposed to be, and maybe she sounds like a girl, but she doesn't sound like a girl when she is a girl so maybe she is allowed.

“I know you,” Steve says, with quiet determination. “You're my best friend. It doesn't matter that I haven't seen your face before now. I've always...” He honest to God blushes.

He looks down, and continues.

“I've never... been with another man before,” he admits, as if she doesn't already know. “But when I met you, I...” And the bravest man in America raises his eyes to hers and smiles. “I love you. So it doesn't matter.”

“So if I wasn't a man...”

“I'd still love you.”

Steve isn't gay. Tasha had a shot all along. But Steve never responded to Ms Stark...

Then Steve is kissing her again, and her body is all for giving in, arousal not any less insistent or all-encompassing in this male version of her, and the erection is getting really very uncomfortable in the tin can she's wearing. 

She tears her mouth away, and has to move away from Steve's smoldering (she can't believe she just used that word, even in her own head) eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” she gasps, and just for a second her voice shocks her all over again. 

The hurt in Steve's eyes is instant and visible. 

“It's not you,” she says, then cringes. She can never mock anyone else for using the cliché again. “I... I want this, you, more than you can ever imagine but we can't do this.”

“Will you at least tell me why?” Steve asks, very quietly. 

“You don't know who I am,” she whispers. “And trust me, it matters a lot.”

Steve takes a step closer, and then it's his turn to gasp.

“Your eyes... you're a Stark?”

Damn. “Yes.” She doesn't think it would do any good to deny it, seeing that her eyes look exactly the same, and at least that can be a partial explanation.

“Not a brother, I would have heard something...” 

Yeah, no. A cousin? No, too public. Morgan is enough of a problem... Nothing to it. _Sorry, Howard_.

“I'm not, officially.” 

“You mean...”

“Dear old dad sure got around.” Well, he did. Just because no one has come forward doesn't mean she doesn't have siblings somewhere... or maybe not. Howard was too good at covering his ass. Still, she doesn't feel guilty using his reputation against him.

“Shouldn't you have a position in the company then, instead of working as a bodyguard to your sister?” Steve is frowning. 

“No, it's not like that. Me and Tasha get along great. I want to protect her. I'm not lacking money or opportunities, nothing like that.”

“So why is it a problem for... us?” 

“That's not it. Steve... I care about you deeply. You're my best friend. But after today, try to forget that you ever saw the person underneath the armor. Forget... Tony. I'm Iron Man, and I'm your friend. I can't be anything else, I can't... can't give you what you deserve. You deserve a spouse, a family without secrets. I can't even give you kids.”

“I don't care about that! I... when I was younger, yes, but now... a partner in the field is more important to me.”

“I'm sorry, Steve.”

She bends over to pick up the helmet and turns to meet Steve's eyes for the last time. He looks devastated, and she can't stop herself from taking one last kiss.

It's soft, tender, a goodbye. “I love you,” she whispers, then closes her eyes and decisively puts the helmet on and turns to go. 

“Tony...” Steve's voice breaks her heart. 

She doesn't turn around but walks to the window and, without stopping, flies out.

Her eyes and throat burn, and her heart physically feels heavy in her chest. 

\- - -

She flies over to the Baxter Building. 

“Tell me you've got something, Sue,” she begs, without as much as a hello.

“Actually, we do. I was just about to call you. Reed, can you bring us some coffee? Or better yet, a bottle of something stronger.”

Sue's husband disappears towards their living area with a quick smile and Tasha removes her helmet before meeting Sue's serious eyes. She's pretty sure Reed knows everything Sue does but she likes to hold on to the illusion of a secret identity even here. 

“That bad?” 

“Yes and no. We know what's going on – more or less – but we don't know if there's anything we can do about it.”

“So I'm stuck as a guy?”

“Oh no, no. We just can't give you a timetable. You see... thank you, darling, put them over there. Will you join us?”

“I think I'll be more useful playing with the kids,” Reed says, laughing, and leaves with a quick kiss to his wife and a friendly wave to Tasha. There's no surprise in his eyes, so Tasha kisses her illusion goodbye. Then again, maybe he just knows her as “Tony”? No, she can't hold on to that theory for long either. She's pretty sure Sue shares everything with him.

She is not at all jealous of their easy relationship. (It's not like she wants the kids part of the equation, but something in the way Reed supports Sue, let's her concentrate on her job... maybe there are many ways of being a partner in the field.)

“Short or long version?” Sue asks, pouring them both a generous amount of whiskey. 

“Short first.”

“We think that whatever this is, it's originating at the other end, and as such, we just have to wait for its resolution over there.”

“So, what, I just have to wait around until I suddenly get my own body back?”

“Pretty much.”

“What are we talking about, days, years?”

“If I may speculate...”

“Speculate away.”

“Hardly years. I could try and contact the other end but it's always iffy talking to other realities and the problems associated with... Especially since everywhere I've seen _Reed_ is the scientist in the family. ”

“Yeah. So we wait?”

“Harder for you than for me,” Sue admits with a wry smile and toasts her with her glass.

“Is it instantaneous? I mean, last time I was asleep so... is there no warning? What if I'm in a suit? In a middle of a fight?”

“I could try to build a detector of some sort but since there are no readings about your previous transformation... Will the Avengers manage if you ground yourself for the foreseeable future?”

Every instinct baulking at the mere idea of leaving the team Tasha still has to admit that they would be okay without her. They have a flier in Thor, after all. And she can still provide technical aid from her lab – the helmet's speakers will hide her real voice.

But Steve will think it's his fault, she just knows it. 

“I'll have to think about it,” she says, emptying the glass and holding it out for a refill. “Now give me the longer version.”

\- - - 

She calls Pepper as she is flying home, after Sue's hours' long “longer” explanation is over. 

“There was... a situation. Long story short, Steve knows me as Tony, an illegitimate son of Howard Stark.”

“Do I even want to know?” she asks, after a short silence.

“Not really, no. I'm on my way to the penthouse so if something comes up...”

“Something did come up but I can drop the paperwork off on my way home. See you soon.” The 'you'll tell me all about it then' is unspoken but audible.

Tasha doesn't bother removing her armor before heading for the drinks cabinet. The door is already open, and she freezes.

“Vodka?” asks a feminine voice behind her, and she has turned and raised her hands in the offensive position before the recognition hits. 

“Aunt Nat,” she says, lowering her hands. 

“Aren't you going to take off your helmet?” her godmother asks, smirking, and... she doesn't know, does she? How could she? 

Her namesake sighs, and discards her drink. “Show me.”

Of course she knows. She's not a super spy for nothing. 

“Who else knows?” Tasha asks, resigned. 

“Just me. How bad is it? Your heart?”

Tasha removes the helmet, as slowly as she can, and then removes the gauntlets without raising her face to meet the older woman's eyes.

She of course has none of that and stalks closer to take a good look at her face.

“Handsome devil, aren't you?” she quips, and makes an impatient gesture with her hand. 

“Let me go change?” Tasha asks, remembering what she's wearing beneath the armor. 

“So it's not just an instant sex change, is it?” her godmother asks, following her to her bedroom. “I mean, your first reaction wouldn't be dying your hair.”

“No.”

“Tell me. I don't need to tell you that none of this will be reported to anyone, do I?”

Natalya “Natasha” Romanova, the Black Widow, has been a double agent as long as Tasha can remember, and seeing that Aunt Nat had already been an old woman when she met Howard, that was not even saying much. Not that the other woman looks a day over twenty. 

Tasha has never known if it is thanks to a mutant power, genetic experimentation, biotechnological enhancements, or even cybernetics. Maybe the Russians did have their own Super-Soldier serum? She's never asked, and her honorary aunt has never explained. Maybe she doesn't even know herself. 

“I don't suppose it's any use asking you to wait outside?” she asks wryly.

She disappears into her walk-in closet to grab some appropriately gendered and sized clothing and removes the armor with little ceremony. She reappears wearing dark slacks, still buttoning her shirt. 

“What's that on your chest? Looks like your father's arc reactor technology.”

Of course she'd know about that, too. “Yes, so it does. Keeps the old ticker ticking.”

“Fine, don't tell me. Do you know what happened?”

“Sue theorises this body is from an alternate world where something happened that caused it to replace mine. My body is most likely there, and I will get it back when ever they are done with it.”

“That's it? We sit and wait?”

“Or we try to do something and screw up what they are doing at the other end.”

“And you are okay with that?”

Tasha resists the words that try to come out and heads towards the bottle of vodka. (Of course Nat chose the cheapest import she gets from Ukraine.) 

“Of course you're not, sorry. What are you going to do?”

Pepper chooses that moment to let herself in. 

“Ta... Tony,” she corrects herself when she spots the other woman in the room.

“Pepper, my godmother, Natasha Romanova. Aunt Nat, Pepper.”

Pepper steps closer to the other redhead to shake her hand, raising one elegant eyebrow.

“Yes, I was named after her after she saved Howard's life during some idiot operation.”

Both eyebrows. Nat obviously takes pity on her. 

“Yes, I'm older than I look, yes, I know that's Tasha. Tony?” she turns to Tasha to ask. 

“Had to think of something. I'm also Howard's bastard son,” she says, grinning, and her godmother throws her head back and laughs. 

\- - - 

In the end Tasha (and Nat and Pepper) decide that it's probably safest for her to step down from the Avengers for the duration of the switch. It goes against her every instinct but it's just too much of a risk. If she changes back in the middle of a battle, in flight, it could be fatal, and not only to her self. 

Besides, she can still join in if something sufficiently big happens. She has no doubt that Pepper has a different definition of “something big” than she does but that is a debate for another day.

She was also right about Steve blaming himself for it. She should have just called the Avengers and not showed up at the Mansion in armor but she felt she owed them that much. Maybe she should have just joined her “employer” in the undisclosed location where Ms Stark is having her heart operation.

Steve corners her before she can leave. He seems to be under the impression she's stepping down because dealing with his emotions is too much for her.

“You can't tell me this has nothing to do with it!” he says when she denies it.

“Wrong way round – _this_ is a part of the reason why _that_ couldn't happen.”

“Are you in some sort of trouble? You know I – the team – would do anything...”

“I know, Cap. I know. There's nothing anyone can do, okay? This is just something I have to sit out.”

She leaves before he can find an answer.

\- - -

In the end, her and Pepper's definitions are in perfect agreement – when the Avengers are battling a horde of malevolent robots (did Doom update his doombots?) right in the downtown New York, she's going to have to join the fray.

There are so many civilian lives on the line, and the robots are so strong the team desperately needs another heavy hitter, that Tasha doesn't even need to think about it before she's heading towards her workshop. Iron Man _cannot_ sit this one out.

She's almost too late. Had she not been there, the building would have collapsed on all those civilians, and she couldn't have dealt with that on top of all the guilt she already lives with. This is who she is, this is where she should be, and trying to stay out of it is only going to driver her crazy. How can she justify staying away when she can help?

But how can she justify being here when she can turn into a liability at any second – what if she loses consciousness when the switch hits? Her body shape is so different, could she keep flying even if she doesn't? Could the suit itself kill her? 

And... how can she keep justifying her absence to her team mates if she keep showing up like this?

\- - -

Tasha has a bad feeling following the comments from Steve and Jan as she was leaving the scene of the battle. She knows it's just a matter of time before they show up to confront her. So maybe she made a mistake of mentioning that she had been “in the neighborhood” because as she obviously isn't staying at the Mansion, the first logical place for them to look for is the Stark penthouse.

And that would be the doorbell. Right on time. If she's lucky, it will be just Jan. If she's unlucky, it will be Steve alone, and how is she supposed to have the strength to keep staying away from him? At least she made sure Pepper was around to act as a buffer. 

And how pathetic is she to need her PA to rescue her from _not_ unwanted advances from a devastatingly handsome and unrepentantly _good_ superhero? She doesn't even need her help with the actually unwanted attention. 

She lets Pepper get the door, and almost sighs in relief when the efficient redhead leads in both Steve and Jan. 

“Drink?” she asks, decades of experience in hiding making her sound completely nonchalant. 

Jan accepts but Steve just shakes his head, eyes glued to her form in a way that makes Tasha's face feel like it's heating up even if she has never blushed in her life. She hands Jan a tumbler of the same stuff she has been sipping... gulping... who's counting? ever since she came back from the fight. She didn't bother keeping the armor on because they know her “Tony” face by now, and at least she can keep drinking. If she was in the armor, she'd just be using a straw. This is definitely a spirits moment.

“Look, Iron Man,” Jan starts.

“Tony,” Steve corrects, and his voice is subdued.

Jan shoots him a quick look before turning back to Tasha. “Tony. We understood you had to stand down as an active member because you were going away. And we supported your decision. But if you're going to keep “being in the neighborhood” you have to realise we'll get suspicious there is an external reason for you to stay away otherwise... Are you in some kind of trouble? Are you being blackmailed? You know we – the Avengers – we're not just your team, we are your friends, and if there is something going on we can help you with...”

“Thank you, Jan, but... It's nothing like that. Honestly. I can't explain to you what's going on, just let me assure you it's nothing you can help me with, but also something that might put me, and everyone else in danger if I keep putting on the suit.”

“You know we won't give up until we get to the bottom of this,” Steve vows, and his voice is certain now, the determination to help his friend tensing all his muscles.

And of course that's the moment shit hits the fan. Tasha feels a tingling sensation all through her body and knows this is it. Damn it! Of course it would happen in front of witnesses – and _those_ witnesses in particular!

“Fuck,” she gets out, and isn't it fitting that that's her last word ever in that voice? 

It doesn't hurt, actually, it feels like... like static. Like she's there and blink she's gone and blink she's there again, and it feels _different_ – she never realised how physically different it was, maybe because she woke up to it. 

Her heart, for one – the reactor was almost unnoticed in the end but now that the low hum is gone... she has to place a hand on her chest to feel the heartbeat, and it feels irregular compared to earlier. And, oh yeah, that's a boob. She's naturally not wearing a bra, and the shirt is hanging loose around her, her shoulders not as wide as a woman. The pants feel like they're falling off, too, and she removes her hand from inside her shirt and uses both to keep her pants up. 

Only then does she turn to look at the others in the room. 

Steve looks like a statue, frozen in position. Jan has dropped her glass and is now staring at her mouth open. Pepper seems to be face-palming. And Tasha just knows that somewhere, somehow, Aunt Nat is laughing her ass off. 

\- - -

“Tasha, are you okay?”

“Peachy,” she says, then hums. “Hey, my voice! Is it really that low even as a woman? La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. Hi, damn. She sells seashells by the sea shore. Pleasant mother pheasant plucker. My hair, my boobs, my... oh, hi, everyone, sorry, I need a private moment with my body.”

“Why do you have an arrow on your neck?”

“I have an...” Tasha walks to the mirror on the wall in the corridor and everyone follows her silently. 

“Huh, I have an arrow on my neck.”

It looks like it was drawn with a black marker and it points down. She takes hold of her shirt to keep it away from her body to peer in. 

“There's writing on my chest,” she says, and, without ceremony, removes her shirt. 

She can hear Pepper herding everyone else back into the living room, but she hardly even cares. After what the ill-timed switch has already revealed...

“ _Hi, girl-me!_ ” it says. “ _Sorry about the whole switch, not my fault, villains and their plots, you know. Sorry about the new scar, too..._ ” There's another arrow, pointing towards her arm. The scar looks recent, red and angry, and she pokes it carefully. 

“ _...but my place is between Steve and a missile, any day, regardless of the body, and I'm sure you agree. Do you even have a Steve? God, I hope you do. Can't imagine a life without a Steve. (Maybe you have a Stephanie? Hot.) Anyway, take care, girl-me._ Signed, _Tony Stark._ ”

She bursts out laughing. Tony Stark! It's almost supernatural, or do bodies really have memory imprints? 

There's a P.S. “ _Nice boobs._ ” and then another arrow under that and this one leads to her thigh.

She pushes the slacks down without a thought, and there, on her left thigh, in small hastily scribbled print are answers to all her questions about the arc reactor she couldn't even try to find out without removing the device. 

She is a little in love with her counterpart at the moment. 

“Pepper! I need to go build myself an arc reactor!” she shouts, all thoughts already in her lab. 

Pepper appears holding a pile of clothes. 

“I think you owe some people some explanations first.”

\- - - 

Jan and Steve together are easy compared to facing Steve on his own after that. He's pale and rigid and looks so incredibly, devastatingly hurt Tasha hates herself even more than usually.

“You were right,” he says, quietly. “I don't know who you are.”

“Steve... I'm still Iron Man, I'm still your friend.”

“A friend who lied to me for years. A friend who...”

“I had a secret identity, I couldn't just...”

“You had a secret sex!”

“I know you're from a different era, Cap, but the difference isn't that dramatic these days.” 

“Of for...! The difference is _me_! I had to re-think and re-define my whole sexual orientation because of you! And now I don't even know who it is I fell in love with.”

Tasha tries to defend herself, and Steve's anger turns to sadness, maybe even bitterness. In the end he sighs, and looks away.

“It's not... You have to realise, after years of wondering what's under the armor I finally saw... him. I finally had a face to all my dreams. So now... I feel like I lost my love, it's like I'm being unfaithful.”

“But it was me!” Tasha repeats for what must be the tenth time. “It still is me, underneath the armor. Regardless of the face.” 

“It's not about your face! Not even about your sex. It's... it's more than that. It's not even about you lying. It's... I finally had a face for my dreams. And now the face is gone, and I...” He turns his back on her and she can see his hands curling into tight fists. “I have to go.”

“Steve...”

“No. I can't... not now.”

Well. At least she still has the whiskey.

\- - -

They don't see each other for days, but then there is a call on the Avengers communicator. And for just a moment it's just like old days – Captain America and Iron Man, kicking ass and taking names. Steve calls her “Shellhead” and she calls him “Winghead” and just for a moment everything is okay. 

And then the fight is over and Steve remembers. Tasha can see the change in him, the light in his eyes dying, the smile disappearing, the jerky movements as he turns away from her. But it's the sadness in his eyes that hurts the most. 

Iron Man is still here, but Steve is mourning the loss of Tony, and every time he sees her in the armor he's going to be reminded of that. 

Well, she might have a solution to that. 

\- - -

It's not just because of Steve and their situation. It's not even because she had a male body for a while. It's not a... okay, so maybe it is a feminist thing. 

It made sense in the beginning – having Iron Man so noticeably a different gender made the disguise better. If she had had a female bodyguard guarding a female businesswoman, someone would have made the connection faster. Just because the gender expectation was against the truth: bodyguards are stereotypically men, _superheroes_ are stereotypically men.

She was robbing the world of a role model. She was robbing the girls and women of the world of a role model. She wants to change the business world, she wants to make the next female CEO's life easier. She wants to make it easier for girls to study engineering and has a scholarship program to that effect. So why not this? 

So it's not just for Steve. But she does hope this will make it easier for him to get over Tony.

\- - -

No one knows of her plan, not Pepper, not Rhodey, not anyone in the Avengers, not... who is she kidding, Aunt Nat is bound to know. 

It takes her weeks, during which she keeps showing up in her old armor, fighting with the Avengers as Iron Man. She doesn't spend that much free time in the Mansion because... it would be weird now, when the others know who she is, to do so in the armor, and she's not ready do it without it, yet. 

It's not like she's hiding. She has a day job, heading the company as well as the R&D department. But she also spends every available moment down in her lab, designing and redesigning, testing, building, starting over and over again until it's perfect.

She always knew the transplant heart was a temporary solution. It would never hold up to the rigorous lifestyle she puts it through. It had been a better option than relying on her chest plate to keep her alive – hiding it and recharging it were equally difficult tasks at times and had led to Pepper finding out her secret identity. 

The arc reactor combines the two solutions in a neat way that warms her engineer's heart. It will be more efficient. More reliable. 

It also means she needs another operation, this time for real.

\- - -

Sue helps her find the surgeon willing to perform the operation. Not even Pepper knows what it's for, really. Tasha informs the Avengers of her health related reasons to take another break from being an Avenger, and Janet, who's the chair person of the week, looks more than understanding of it this time. 

Of course, they all know she's a businesswoman with a bad heart this time. From her expression, it's a wonder they haven't grounded her themselves. 

Steve – Captain America – doesn't say a word, and barely meets her eyes. It hurts, but she shelves the hurt, relying on her solution to fix everything. 

Well, maybe not everything, but at least it should help them start over from the beginning. 

She has to let Steve mourn his lost love before she can hope to get him to move on. The damn man is way too loyal and faithful for anything else – even if the person he's getting over is merely an illusion, it was real to him. (That knowledge – acceptance – might have taken Tasha a few bottles of whiskey and more sleepless nights to reach. And maybe some shouting in Russian by her godmother.)

“Anyway, I'll let you guys know when I'm recovered enough to return.” She has debated with herself whether to mention the next bit aloud. In the end her sense of duty wins. “If you really need help, put Rhodey in the armor I used as Tony.”

She has thought about offering the armor to Rhodey anyway. It's not like she'll ever use it again and the pilot would no doubt love it. It's just that... what if the Avengers like Rhodey better than her? Will she even have a team to return to? After all, Rhodey doesn't have a bad heart or a dubious past, and because of _his_ day job he'll at least know how to follow orders.

\- - -

Major operations and pain from the invasive surgery aside, Tasha feels better than she has since before Afghanistan. The steady beat of her heart something she hasn't been able to take for granted in years, first being dependent on her chest plate's charge, then the transplant and the related medication. Now there's something so much stronger and more reliable making sure her blood keeps circulating and she can't wait to test it in action.

That, and her new armor. There have been laboratory tests and she's put it through its paces in the gym; she may be reckless with her own life sometimes but she is still an engineer – stress testing and trial runs exist for a reason.

She's just waiting for that perfect moment to make her début. It's totally not because she's nervous about ~~Steve's~~ people's reactions.

In the end, of course, she ends up having to don the armor in an emergency without finishing her tests but when big things are falling form the sky she can't very well leave the Avengers to fend for themselves – Thor and Jan can fly but the latter can't carry anyone else.

It's maybe a bit more dramatic than even she could have planned to introduce her new armor by saving a falling Steve but she can't deny that she loves it. She hopes Spider-Man gets a good photo of the rescue, she couldn't have wished for a better beginning for her new alter ego.

She had walked a fine line with the changes: she couldn't change the concept too much or she'd lose the connection to the Iron Man, but she also needed to make a clear difference in the form to reform the brand into an Iron _Woman_. And she didn't want it to look stupidly sexist either, no high heels or boob plates for her, because _seriously_. Iron Woman was to be as powerful, as intimidating as the Iron Man has been.

She ended up in making the difference in the function rather than gender. The feminine shape was hinted in the sleeker shape, the curve of the waist, the slightly narrower shoulder line, and even the helmet is sleeker, but the real difference is the function: where Iron Man was a tank, Iron Woman is a fighter jet. Built for speed more than fire power, her new alloy (trademark pending) having proven enough protection even as a thin layer, so that she didn't need to bulk up the shape so much to fit in protection and padding inside. 

She wanted to make the change obvious, but not just by slapping boobs on the existing armor. In praxis female and male armors have no reason to be shaped that differently, especially with that much metal surrounding the body, making the different form of the body beneath a moot point. So the whole process had been more like a re-imagining of the entire concept of a suit of armor, and she thinks she's done a good job. The armor is still red and gold, glistening in the sun light, the arc reactor's light showing through the port in the chest of the armor. It powers the whole system, and, as expected, frees room that was previously filled with power cells. 

She feels as good in it as she felt years ago donning the first version of Iron Man she'd worked on in her lab. She feels protected, strong, powerful – and somehow it's even better now, because she feels like she's being truer to herself, even shielded from the world, when not hiding behind a false appearance of gender on top of the metal frame.

Jan gives her a thumbs up, and Tasha knows she gets it. Thor nods a bow with his head, and calls her a “shield sister” with the same solemn joy he used to call her “shield brother.” Hank just waves his hand distractedly, eyes on the arc reactor, and Tasha wonders if he even took in any other part of the change.

Steve... Steve just looks at her with an unreadable expression. It's not the worst response it could have been but she admits to feeling a little disappointed to get no reaction from him. But at least it wasn't an outright rejection. At least they can still fight together.

\- - -

After the fight, she joins the other Avengers at the Mansion, for the first time without her helmet. Everyone meets her eyes and smiles at her. Everyone but Steve, who seems to be avoiding her gaze.

“Steve... Cap, can you... Can I speak to you for a minute?” she asks him after the debrief is over, and everyone is getting up.

Steve seems to hesitate for a second but then nods, and stays behind as the others file out of the meeting room.

Tasha gets straight to the point, not knowing how long she has before Steve reaches his limit.

“In everything that I said... I don't think I ever said I'm sorry. I'm sorry, for lying to you, for everything. It just... Everything happened, and I feel like I was just reacting, which, I know, genius, I should be able to plan better but... And I'd loved you for so long. 

“I'm Iron Man, have been from the beginning. It was always me. So it was me, being your friend, always. But Iron Man was – is – also the best parts of me. He comes without my baggage, without the war profiteering, without the drinking and sleeping around and bating the paparazzi. And it's not like I could give you children anymore than if I really was a man. So even though I realised you were... had feelings for him, I couldn't... You didn't like me that way out of the armor. And I figured you never would. Besides, I kind of thought you were gay.”

She pauses to let Steve splutter, which he obligingly does.

“So I knew I didn't have a chance as myself. And then suddenly I had this male body, and I had to fight so hard not to just... give in. I'm sorry I'm not stronger. I shouldn't have even let it go that far. But I love you, Steve, I've loved you for years, and you are quite irresistible. Not that I'm trying to blame you for what happened, I just... I needed you to know that.”

“I... don't even know what to say. What to think.”

“And you have a right to feel like that. I just... I guess I'm asking for a chance to be your friend again, without masks this time.”

“I can't promise you that.”

“A chance to try?”

“Everyone deserves that much, I suppose.”

It's not exactly ringing endorsement, but it's a start, and Tasha will accept anything that lets her get her foot into the door. She will win him over. She will, because the alternative is unthinkable.

\- - -

The first time Captain America calls Iron Woman “Shellhead” Tasha knows she's finally forgiven.

That evening she asks Steve out for a date.

(He says yes.)

 

\- - -

Epilogue

“I'm not doing this in the uniform! I'm marrying Natasha Stark, not Iron Woman.”

“Well, we are a sort of two for one deal, honey, I think we've established that.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I do, and I see your point, and I maybe even love you a little more for it, but this isn't just about us anymore.”

“It's our wedding, it should be about us.”

“Steve, I've been committed to you for years, this will not change that. I know you're an old-fashioned guy, and I'm willing to do this for you – and don't even make me start on the taxes. But this isn't just about Tasha and Steve, it can't be, because of Captain America and Iron Woman. They are so much bigger than just us. And right now, the superhero community needs this, the public needs this – a joyful, normal occasion bringing all of us together, a unified front. Showing that we're all just people, trying to get along in life the best we can.”

“I hate it when you go all PR on me.”

“No, you don't, not when it's for a good cause. If you were marrying _Tony_ Stark, you'd insist on a huge, public wedding just to champion the cause of equal marriage.”

“...Can we incorporate that into the ceremony somehow?”

“You are _not_ marrying my alternate reality counterpart.”

“No, I just...”

“We'll not have a double wedding either. I don't think Carol has even asked Jess yet.”

“Maybe...”

“We're not waiting for her to do so.”

“But... No, never mind. Janet will be disappointed she doesn't get to design your wedding gown.”

“I knew it, you have a thing about wedding dresses, don't you?”

“Well, there is my grandmother's veil...”

\- - -

Steve has known her for close to a decade, has been in a relationship with her for most of it, he really, really should have known better. 

 

[ ](http://s137.photobucket.com/user/niki_chidon/media/3490_crop_zpszstkngac.jpg.html)

**Author's Note:**

> ...my word processor told me this was over 10k words...


End file.
